


Of Pups, Musketeers, and Pirates

by Tindomerelhloni



Series: The Adventures of Evidence Holmes [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, I had too much wine to AO3, Johnlock - Freeform, Lincoln Holmes, M/M, Omega John, Parentlock, Sarah Jane Holmes, had wine... can't tag, hinted at Mystrade, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:13:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10091252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tindomerelhloni/pseuds/Tindomerelhloni
Summary: Part three! Don't hate me for how I started it!!!I've had wine... which means..... i don't even know.1: I'm not sure I love this name...-- didn't like it. So I changed it.2: Feels3: gonna be lazy and not name this chapter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part three! Don't hate me for how I started it!!!
> 
> I've had wine... which means..... i don't even know. 
> 
> 1: I'm not sure I love this name...  
> \-- didn't like it. So I changed it.   
> 2: Feels  
> 3: gonna be lazy and not name this chapter.

Sherlock brought the twins home on July 29th, a week before their due date and a week after they were born via emergency cesarean. Lincoln, or Link for short, was the eldest by the longest fifteen minutes of John’s life and he looked just like John’s mother. John wept when he held him for the first time, running his finger over his button nose and refusing to let the nurse take him away as his sister was born. Honey, was as dainty as babies came, resembling a porcelain doll with golden locks of hair that were already curling at the tips. Honey’s original name, and what was documented on the birth certificate, was Sarah Jane (after John’s favorite Doctor Who character) but the moment Evidence laid eyes on her new sister she had proudly declared that her name would be Honey because of her hair. So, John and Sherlock agreed that it would be a fitting nickname.

John however, due to complications, was not allowed to go home just yet. Sherlock, after a day of attempting to take care of his household without the help of his mate, called his Mother and cried into the phone. He was tired, he was stressed, and above all, he was worried. Mrs. Holmes arrived an hour later with her husband and told Sherlock to go rest, that they would take care of everything. Sherlock nodded and as if in a dream, climbed the stairs and crawled into the bed that, despite being empty, smelled like John and slept for a solid eight hours. When he woke he showered, dressed himself in a suit and made his way downstairs to the lounge where his mother was rocking a whimpering Sarah to sleep.    
  
“Did they get a chance to bond, with either you or John?” She sighed sadly at the infant who again refused a bottle all while tears streamed down her face.

“Briefly, yes. John was rushed to recovery before he’d had a chance to do much more than scent them.” Sherlock reached down and took the babe from his mother’s arm and held her tightly against his chest, shushing her while nuzzling his nose against her ear. It took a moment, but she finally settled and Mrs. Holmes stood, motioning that Sherlock should sit and take the bottle. 

“They need their Omega parent. Link settled a bit easier, but this one, she’s a fighter.” 

Sherlock nodded and leaned his head against the back of the chair, pushing off with his toes as he began gently rocking back and forth. “Any word on John?” 

“Mycroft just called. He’s out of surgery, recovering now. Hasn’t woken yet.” 

“I need to go to him.” Sherlock started to stand but his mother, the kind Omega woman who had put up with his tantrums for nearly 36 years, shook her head and growled at him.

“You’ll do no such thing, young man. Not until you’ve snuggled your children, all of them, and eaten at least one decent meal.” then added a bit kinder, “He’s sleeping, he won't even know you’re gone.”

Evidence, at nearly three years old, walked into the room, smiled at her grandmother then frowned at her daddy. “Papa coming home soon?” 

“Real soon, Evie. Real soon. He just needs some rest.” Mrs. Holmes cast a pointed look at Sherlock and ruffled her granddaughter's hair. Seemingly pleased with the answer Evidence moved to stand by the side of the rocking chair and reached out to stroke her sister’s hair. 

“She’s pretty.” 

“Just like you. You had hair like her’s, only your’s was much darker.” Sherlock smiled and leaned sideways a little until he was close enough to his eldest daughter to kiss her cheek. “You’ll be a big help to your Gram when I’m visiting Papa? Try and use the potty,” here Sherlock smiled to himself, never in his life had expected himself to use the word  _ potty _ yet it had become a daily occurrence for him since his eldest had started potty training. She nodded, her mop of dark curls bouncing and Sherlock grinned at her. “Help with the three musketeers too, yeah? Keep Zoe out of trouble by letter her play with you? Make her walk the plank or something, she’ll think that’s a blast.”

“Ooooh. Can I tie her up?” 

“Ahh… No. She’s only one. Papa would kill me if I let you.” Sherlock shook his head and Evidence nodded solemnly in agreement. 

“I’m going to go put a plate of food together for you.” Mrs. Holmes fondly ran a hand through Sherlock’s curls and Sherlock leaned into the touch. It had been a while, since he’d let his mother touch him in such a fashion, but now interacting with his own children, he realized just how much a parent craved that. And just because your kids grew up, didn’t mean that feeling went away, right? 

Once Sherlock had eaten, kissed and tucked in each of his older children and spent some time bonding with his two newest, Mrs. Holmes finally nodded and handed her son his Belstaff. Sherlock took it, kissed his mother on the cheek and shrugged into it.

“Tell John we send our love.” Mr. Holmes appeared in the door carrying his grandson, and nodded to his son.

“I will.” 

“And don’t listen to those nurses. Visiting hours be dammed, John needs you.” Mrs. Holmes patted her son on the shoulder and walked him towards the door. 

“Mmm I snuck in once, remember?” Sherlock’s dad smiled at his wife, “When you had Sherlock. They wouldn’t let me stay the night, so I left, then snuck in through the window.” 

“Mycroft has arranged for me to stay. Though, if John asks, I snuck in. Sounds more heroic that way.” Sherlock grinned, despite the pit of snakes in his stomach, and tightened his scarf around his neck.

“It’s July, dear, really think you’ll need that?” Mrs. Holmes reached to take the scarf off but Sherlock placed a hand over it.

“It's for John, for when I’m needed at home. I haven’t worn it in a few months…” Sherlock shrugged in lieu of explaining himself, but his parents seemed to understand. “You’ll call if you need me?”

“Yes, dear, Martha is on her way, and Greg said to call if we want him to take Evidence. We’ll be alright. We raised you, after all, didn’t we?”

“Try six of me.” Sherlock said in parting and made his way outside. He took his mother’s car, leaving behind their van in case his parents needed to take the children anywhere, and was soon alone with his thoughts and worries. After a moment of running through everything that could possibly be wrong with John, Sherlock pounded his fist against the wheel and shook his head, then resolved himself to counting the cars he passed to otherwise keep his mind occupied.

When he arrived at the hospital, he entered John’s room to find his mate still asleep. John looked pale, thin, and deathly still. It was unnerving to Sherlock, who hadn’t seen John sit still for long since having Evidence nearly three years ago. (Not that he sat still much before their bonded life.) Sherlock did the only thing he could think of, he kicked off his shoes, and careful not to disturb any of the IV lines or wires attached to John, crawled into bed beside his mate, and repositioned John until John’s nose was buried deep in the crook of his neck so with each breath John breathed in his Alpha. Sherlock kissed John’s head and took one of his clammy hands in his.

“You’ve gotta pull through this, John. I can’t do this without you.”    
  


 

***

  
  
John didn’t wake for another four hours. When his eyes finally fluttered open Sherlock was dozing, but as soon as John pressed his lips against Sherlock’s cheek the Alpha woke.

“Hi.” John’s voice cracked with misuse but he smiled at his mate.

“Hi.” Sherlock folded himself in half slightly and brushed his lips against John’s forehead and pulled away with a frown.

“Hot?” John sighed and reached an arm over the side of the bed to press the “Call” button and rolled his eyes. 

“Too hot.” Sherlock nodded and began to pull himself away from John, but John reached out and grabbed him.

“Yeah, you’re not going anywhere.” To further his point John nuzzled his head down on Sherlock’s chest and slung an arm over Sherlock’s tors, laying his hand flat just above Sherlock’s navel. Sherlock let out a deep chuckle and settled back down against the cheap hospital bed. 

“And they say I’m the Alpha of the relationship.”

“Yeah? Who says? Ask anyone and they’ll tell you that I’m in charge.” John chuckled back and together they waited for the nurse.

John allowed the doctor to give him a once over but promptly informed the room that he didn't want to know what was wrong; stating, "I'm a doctor, I'll know what they're talking about and worry." When they were, after what felt like ages, finally left alone John looked around the room and frowned.    
  
"They didn't offer to bring in the babies. Jesus," he began to panic and was just about to rip out his IV line when Sherlock placed a calming hand on his.    
  
"They're all right. Home, with my mum and dad. Healthy as can be. John, what's the last thing you can remember?" Sherlock pulled John back into the bed and wrapped his long body back around his mate, doing his best not to let on how worried he actually was.    
  
"Erm. Lincoln was born, the placed him on my chest. He has my mum's nose, her eyes, brown like hers. I wouldn't let them take him from me. They had trouble with Sarah. She took much longer, to long for a cesarean. She didn't cry at first either, my guess is her umbilical cord was wrapped around her..." Sherlock nodded but remained silent, allowing John to continue. "I finally got to hold her. And then I started complaining about pain. It all went fuzzy after that for a bit." John scrunched up his face as he did his best to remember what happened next, "Oh, and then Evidence was there.   I remember her. I remember hearing the three musketeers, but don't remember seeing them. I was fine for a while, then I started getting dizzy, and there was more pain. Yeah, that's it. That was what, last night?"   
  
"Last week." Sherlock closed his eyes and exhaled slightly relieved that his mate had no recollection of the past week.    
  
"Last week?  Jesus... so.." John licked his lips and turned to look at Sherlock, "how bad?"   
  
"Bad. Almost lost you, three times. Actually lost you for the worst twenty seconds of my life the first time." Sherlock whispered then leaned in closer, pressing his lips silently against John's, stealing the kiss he'd waited a week to have.    
  
After a moment John broke the kiss and pulled back slightly, "if I can't go home, I want my babies. All of them. And none of that 'keep them quiet' bullshit."   
  
"I'll text mummy, she and dad can bring them tomorrow morning. For now go to sleep."   
  
"Yeah. Am a bit tired. See you in the morning." John mumbled sleepily but smiled in an attempt to lighten the mood but Sherlock just nodded sadly.    
  
"Yeah. I love you, John."   
  
"I love you too, Sherlock."   
  
They kissed again, until John’s lips stopped moving as his mate fell asleep, and Sherlock hoped he hadn't just said goodbye to the love of his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter - because I can't stop writing this family.

John woke the following morning to a set of bony knees pressed against his side and a cold nose nuzzling his ear. He only had to inhale once to know who was beside him. Keeping his eyes closed he smiled and snuggled closer to his eldest, turning his head to press a kiss against her cheek.

“Why! Hello, Evie.” The room was quiet, too quiet to contain any more of his children, so he opened one eye and grinned at Evidence, “Did you drive here all by yourself? Or did you take your pirate ship?”

“Gram drove.” She giggled and kissed her papa full on the lips before sitting up beside him and tracing the wires and tubes from his body to the machines and huffing her disapproval. “Why this?” she gestured to the machines then crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Oh, they’re just monitoring my heartbeat for the doctors, and a few other things. This one,” John pointed to his IV line, “gives me medicine and keeps me from getting dehydrated.”    
  
“Like a shot?” She scrunched up half her face as she regarded the IV and gently pressed her index finger just under the spot where it went into John’s vein.

“Yeah, like a shot. Only this way they don’t have to keep poking me.” 

Just then Sherlock came into the room carrying a small pink, crying (more like screaming bloody murder) bundle in his arms. He wrinkled his nose, much like Evidence had just done, then looked down at his daughter. 

“She hasn’t stopped Mum said…”

“Give her her,” John, with one hand steadying Evidence so she wouldn't tumble off the bed, pressed the button on the side of his bed until the back was raised enough so he was in what could be called a half sitting position, then reached his arms out to take Sarah into his arms. 

The moment Sherlock placed Sarah against John’s chest the infant quieted. With a few last little hiccuping sobs she settled against John’s chest and yawned. Sherlock instantly relaxed and Evidence gave a little clap of her hands.

“She doesn’t stop, Papa. All night… she cried.” 

“You all right for a moment?” Sherlock looked worried and gave John a hard look when John nodded. “I’m going to go help get the rest, because we have enough children that we can’t bloody take them all out of the car at once.” John chuckled at this as he soothingly patted Sarah’s bum.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t trade them for the world.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock and all six of their children somehow managed to squeeze their way into John’s room. Not a single staff member said anything in regards to the “Two Visitors at a time” rule, instead they all commented on what a gorgeous family they had. The triplets, or Three Musketeers, as they were now called thanks to the mischief they tended to get into, spent most of their visit “entertaining” John by playing a sort of hide and seek game with him. All three of them would hide under John’s bed, one would surface to one side and when John would lean over his bed and say “I see you!” the spotted toddler would then giggle and scurry back under the bed. 

Evidence, grateful that her little sister was doing something other than screaming, spent her time curled up beside John, helping her papa feed the newborns and “making sure” the nurses and doctors took good care of him. She watched with wide eyed interest when, at one point, the doctor changed the dressings on John’s cesarean incision.

“Ooooh, what’s that?”

The doctor looked up from his work and when John nodded he simply replied, “This is where your little brother and sister came out. They needed a bit of help.”

“Sooo….” She leaned forward a little, now crouching on the bed beside John, her hands outstretched on John’s legs as she tried to get her head right over the incision for a better look. “You cut Papa? Did it hurt?”

“No, Evie, I didn’t feel a  thing.” John lied slightly, “They gave me some medicine, now come here and let the poor man do his job.”

“Fantastic!” Evidence said in her best John-Like voice and plopped herself down on her bum by John’s side.

“Might have a doctor in training on your hands, Doctor Holmes.” John’s doctor covered the incision with a new dressing and grinned up at John.

“Perhaps, even pirates need doctors. Don’t they Evie.” John lovingly ran a hand through Evidences hair and smiled at his eldest when she half shrugged half nodded. 

As the doctor turned to leave Evidence boldly reached out and tapped him on the arm to get his attention. Smiling he turned back around and addressed the toddler with a questioning look. 

“Papa be home for my birthday?” Now sitting beside John's hip, she crossed her arms and mustered up the same expression Sherlock used when dealing with Donnovan. 

“And when is your birthday?” The doctor, not put off by her questioning him, regarded her like she was the only adult in the room. 

“Ummmmm,” she pouted and turned to John and looked at him for help. 

“7th August, sweetheart.” John almost wished that Sherlock's parents hadn't stepped out with the triplets to give them some privacy, because this exchange between a not quite 3 year old Alpha and a Beta doctor was priceless. A story worth telling her children someday. 

“Yeah, that. 7th.” She nodded curtly and kept her arms crossed.

“Oh, well, that's a week away. Your Papa should be well enough by then.” 

“Promise?”

“Yeah, she's three. Promises matter,” John interrupted the exchange, not wishing for 

his daughter to get her hopes up, “don't promise unless it's actually going to happen.”

“We’ll see then, yeah? You'll be the first I let know.”

It was bittersweet to say goodbye to his children, and his mate. There was. I denying the fact that their visit had exhausted him, but to John it was worth it. Before they left, Mrs. Holmes helped pile all six of the children on the bed. The twins went on John’s chest, two of the triplets, Oliver and Zoe, managed to sit still long enough to be placed on either side of John’s head while Lock sat between John’s knees, Evidence refused to move from her spot by John’s side. With no room left on the bed Sherlock pulled up a chair and sat as close to his mate as he could, and took John’s hand in his. 

“Say cheese!” Mrs. Holmes bubbly voice carried over the excited chatter of the children as she brought up the camera on John’s mobile. 

There was a mixture of “cheeses” and one “poop”, (Oliver had just learned that word, and it was now used for everything.) even Sherlock smiled at the camera and put up with his mother taking half a dozen more pictures on her own personal camera. 

“There now, we’ll have that one framed.” 

“Take care of yourself, John. I'll see you tomorrow.” Sherlock leaned in and kissed John, who nodded and bit at his bottom lip.

“Yeah. Hey,” he turned to cup Evidence’s face in his hands and brushed away a tear, “no crying, little miss. I just need a bit more rest, then I can come home. Will you do me a favour?” she nodded her head and sniffled away another tear. “Help daddy and Gram with the triplets. And be a big girl for me,-”

“And use the potty. Yeah, daddy told me. Daddy also said I couldn't tie up Zoe.”

“Errr…. yeah, that's good. Listen to daddy then.” John kissed her goodbye, and for a second time told her not to cry, then watched as Sherlock herded their children into a line, telling everyone to, “Follow Grampa!”

They had decided that Sherlock should go home. Thinking it best that at least one parent should be home for their children, but now alone in his hospital room John felt the cold fingers of depression gripping him.  Or was it just sadness? Alone in an uncomfortable hospital bed, it was hard to tell the difference. 

Grunting slightly from pain he leaned over the side of his bed and retrieved is mobile phone from where it sat on the nightstand. He had been intending to flick through the pictures his mother-in-law had taken that afternoon, but instead smiled when the screen eliminated and revealed a missed text from Sherlock. 

**_Our bed is dreadful without you -SH_ **

**_Yeah? Try this one. Machines won't stop beeping, and every time I start to fall asleep someone comes in to check on me. -J_ **

Sherlock's reply came within seconds. 

**_Tell them to fuck off -SH_ **

**_I did. But the nurse just laughed and called me cute. -J_ **

**_You are cute when you're angry -SH_ **

**_Fuck off. -J_ **

**_Oh, very clever, John -SH_ **

**_Give me a break, I'm ill. -J_ **

**_Speaking of… looked at my chart. Nurse left it lying about. -J_ **

**_And…? -SH_ **

**_They think I'll be home for Evie’s b-day?!?! No doctor in their right mind should release me. Let alone allowing me to have company like I did today! Internal bleeding, and blood clotting. Jesus, Sherlock. You must be a wreck. -J_ **

John hit send and wasn't surprised when his phone rang a few seconds later. He slid the answer button and pressed the device to his ear. 

_ How are you still holding it together.  _

_ I'm not. My mum had to force me to eat. John, I'm worried. We went to far this time.  _

_ Yeah well, it's not like we planned on getting pregnant again. It was just… _

John smiled to himself. He and Sherlock had been stuck at Baker Street. They'd just wrapped up a case when it had started to snow. Hearing that the roads were icy, and his parents, who were at the cottage with the kids, were more than happy to spend another night, they stayed in London. They celebrated their post cause high, and not having children, with two bottles of wine and some of the best sex John could remember having out of a heat. It was thought that Omega’s were unable to get pregnant outside of their heats, so thinking themselves safe, they didn't bother with protection. A month later when John had started feeling what he could only call “pregnant” he kicked himself and took a test. 

_ I know, John... but, we should have... _

_ Should have what, terminated the pregnancy? _

John hissed into the phone. If Sherlock was actually suggesting that they should have done that, he would drive back home this very minute and deck him in that perfectly posh face. 

_ No, I mean I should have used a condom! _

_ Bit late, that. Listen, enough with this. We've got two new kids, our last. Yea, I saw that they tied my tubes.  _

Sherlock huffed, sounding relieved, into the phone 

_ I'm fine with it, really. I don’t know what my point is. Can't remember. All I know,  _

_ Sherlock, is the doctor in me knows I'm where I'm supposed to be. But the father/Omega side of me needs to get home.  _

_ I need you to get well, before you come home.  _

Sherlock’s voice was small, quiet, so soft John’s heart nearly broke. The thought of his mate scared and alone was heartbreaking. He remembered how he had felt when Sherlock had jumped to his death, and they weren't even bonded then.

_ Yeah, I will. I'll stay a few more days. Won't fight the doctors, I promise. But, Jesus, I need my family.  _

_ We’re right here, John. Taking them all to visit at once might not be the best idea. But I'll visit every day, and bring someone with me.  _

_ Bring the twins tomorrow… poor pups. Don't even know me.  _

_ Oh, they know you, John. Did you see the way Sarah quieted the moment you held her. They know you.  _

_ I…. I can't breast feed them…. _

_ They have specialists… _

_ Yeah. _

John was quiet for a moment then brushed away a tear. 

_ I'll ask tomorrow. I want to try.  _

_ John? _

_ Yea? _

_ Go to sleep. You're exhausted. I can hear it in your voice. _

_ Stay on the phone with me? _

_ Always.  _

_ Ta. Miss you.  _

_ I miss you too, John.  _

With his mobile resting between his face and his pillow John fell into a deep sleep. Sherlock only hung up once he was certain his mate was asleep. He put his phone on the charger and curled up on john’s side of the bed, burying his face into John’s pillow. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One: I'm SORRY!!!
> 
> Two: This is short, IM SORRY
> 
> Three: Explanation - I've just entered into a new relationship. We've officially been dating three weeks this coming Tuesday, and it has been flat out amazing. However, it leaves me with little time to write. I hope to get better at balancing out my time, so I apologize if updates are far and few between. I promise I wont stop, I promise I wont forget about you or this fic... 
> 
> He's in the military, and is going away (out of country) for two weeks in April (missing my birthday, the bastard! ;) ) so I'll have plenty of time to write then! Please bear with me as I adjust to this new "life style"

John was allowed to come home on the 5th of August. He’d come a long way in the past week, but not as much as he'd hoped. However, he sucked it up and kept his concerns to himself for the sake of being released. After all, at this point they were mostly monitoring him and administering medication. He and Sherlock could do that themselves at home. Sherlock drove so slowly the entire way home, taking each bump and turn with so much care that John had no other choice but to roll his eyes. 

 

“I'm not Humpty Dumpty. I'm not going to fall apart.”

 

“You said, in fact you promise, you wouldn't argue. Mind your blood pressure, John.”

 

“Mind my blood pressure…. I'll show you mind my blood pressure.” John grumbled from his side of the car and huffed out a groan. 

 

Sherlock continued to drive carefully, however John was slightly pleased to see that, at the next sharp turn, Sherlock revved the engine and took it much faster than he should have. 

 

“Thanks.” John grinned and let go of the armrest.

 

“Mmm.”

 

The children bombarded them the moment Sherlock opened the front door. Lock and Oliver each claimed one of Sherlock’s legs as their own, wrapping their arms around his calves and plopping their bums on Sherlock’s feet. Zoe stood a little further back holding Evidence’s hand. Both girls were wearing huge grins. The twins, who were asleep and oblivious to the happy affair, were in the lounge in their cribs. 

 

“Go on…” Evidence let go of her sister's hand and gave her a little push.  

 

“Papa.” Zoe giggled and held out a bright blue piece of paper that had been haphazardly folded in half. Sherlock retrieved it for him, saving John from having to bend down, and handed it over. John looked at what he assumed to be the front. Evidence had been learning how to write letters, even if she couldn’t quite put words together. On the front, was a P, and what he could only assume was supposed to be an A, and a smiley face with eyes far too big for its head. He unfolded the piece of paper and smiled. Inside was a drawing, done by Evidence, of a stick figure hospital bed, complete with the machines and everything, with him sitting on it, beside him was a stick figure with curly dark hair.

 

“Is this you, Evie?” John pointed to the stick figure and she nodded. “Jesus, not sure I was this talented at three.” John grinned and showed the card to Sherlock who looked at it with no small amount of pride. 

 

“It’s lovely, Evie, we’ll hang it on the fridge. But I need to sit down…” He directed the last bit at Sherlock who looked up from the card as if a bomb had gone off and before John was aware of what was happening he was being herded towards their sitting room. “Sherlock, love, our bedroom, if you don’t mind. Once I’m off my feet, I have no intention of getting up again. However visitors are welcome.” 

 

Once John was made comfortable in bed, propped up with pillows (and partially with squirming children) Sherlock went to make tea. John, holding Link in his arms, looked around at his bed full of children and smiled. Evidence made it known that the spot to John’s immediate left was  _ her _ spot. She curled up against her Papa, nuzzling her head against John’s side and almost instantly fell asleep.

 

Sherlock made John rest for the next two days. On the morning of Evidence’s third birthday he begrudgingly allowed John to join them at the table for breakfast. When John sat down at the table, with Sherlock hovering over him like the overprotective Alpha he’d become, Evidence plopped herself down in her chair. Sitting on her knees, with her elbows on the table she took in the room, she looked at the group of tense adults, at Mrs. Hudson’s worried tight lipped smile, her grandparent’s exchanging worried glances and her beloved Uncle who looked like he was ready to spring from his chair like it was on fire, and she frowned.

 

“Why so sad? Are you sad I’m three?” 

 

Everyone burst out laughing at this, and the laughing only grew stronger as Evidence scrunched up her face in a perturbed grimace. 

 

“No, sweetheart, we’re not sad that you’re getting older.” John winced a little as he tucked in his chair, but reached over and brushed a curl over her ear.

 

“Then why?” She continued to pout, so John and Sherlock shared a look and as Sherlock sat down, very close to John, he sighed and said,

 

“Because everyone is worried about Papa. He should still be up in bed, but he wanted to have breakfast with us, because it’s your birthday.”

 

“So bring his bed down here.” She shrugged, like it was the simplest, and most obvious, choice, and grinned as her Grandmother placed three small pancakes on her plate.

 

“Actually, Sherlock…” John looked over at his husband and furrowed his brows, “might not be a terrible idea. Could set up one of the pull out sofas, that way I can rest there, but be a part of everything.”

  
“That’s a marvelous idea, Evie.” Mrs. Holmes grinned as she continued to pass out pancakes. “I’ll help you with it first thing after dinner.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wishing myself and thr triplets a happy birthday!!

Between Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson, John soon had a makeshift nest set up in the larger of their downstairs lounges. Evidence looked on with a pout as Sherlock finished helping John get settled in bed, then immediately went to fetch one of the twins, returning a moment later with Sarah. She leaned against the far wall, arms crossed over her tiny chest, and huffed out a sigh when her Papa smiled down at the bundle of infant in his arms and began talking to her. Her baby sister streched out in her Papa’s arms and buried her face in John’s chest, undoubtedly seeking out more of her Omega parent’s scent.

Just then John looked up and made to smile at his eldest, but caught her unhappy expression. After sharing a look with Sherlock, he handed the baby back over and kissed her cheek.

“It’s alright luv, go see Daddy. That’s right,” he cooed as she began to fuss, “Daddy’s got you.” Sherlock slipped out of the room, crying baby in hand, bouncing as he walked as he tried to sooth his youngest.

“Evie, come here,” John patted the space next to him on the pull out mattress and waited patiently as she pulled herself up. She plopped down on her knees beside John, keeping her arms crossed, and pouted up at him. “Evidence, what’s wrong?” he asked, despite already knowing what the matter was.

“Too many babies… don’t love me anymore.” She huffed out, her little voice so quiet and broken that John felt his heart nearly break in two.

“Oh darling,” he reached out and pulled Evidence to his chest and kissed the top of her head. “Sweetheart, Daddy and I love you so much… so very very much. You must know that, right?”

Her blue-green eyes grew wide as she nodded, fat tears began to drip from their corners, trickling down her face and onto John’s shirt.

“Just because we have more babies, doesn’t mean we love you any less. I could never ever stop loving you, Evie. Same goes for Daddy.”

Evidence nuzzled her neck against John’s throat and threw her arms around her Papa, her small body was now shaking with the force of her tears, as she choked out, “Sometimes… I get sad.”

“Oh, baby… why do you get sad?” John cupped a hand over the back of Evidence’s head while running his other hand over her back. He glanced up at the doorway and saw Sherlock leaning against the doorjam, rocking Sarah and watching as his eldest child sobbed. He took a step into the room but John shook his head, stopping him and Sherlock nodded in understanding, stepping back to watch from a distance.

“Because,” she sobbed, “I miss Papa time. When you weren’t sick.” She lifted her tear-stained face and placed a wet kiss to John’s cheek, stroking his pale face while biting back more sobs.

John closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Since the start of his pregnancy, having been put on early bed rest, he and Evidence hadn’t done much together other than watch movies, read, or other activities that could be done from his bed. It seemed, the only consequence wasn’t simply a sore back and stiff joints, but a heartbroken older daughter who felt neglected by the man who had given birth to her.

“I miss it too, Evidence…” John said sadly, kissing her forehead and doing his best to wipe away some of her tears. “I’m not better yet, but I will be, soon; and when I am you and I are going to spend a lot of time together. Alright?”

“Like go to the park?” She asked hopefully, looking up to meet John’s gaze.

“Yeah, like go to the park. And maybe…. If we don’t tell Daddy, we can sneak away and go to the cinema, I can take you to see your first film.” John knew that this was a bit of a bribe, but if it were a genuine suggestion was it really a bribe? And, if it were the only thing that would work on a certain Sherlock Holmes, there was a very strong chance that this was the only line of reasoning that would work on his offspring. Perhaps he’d spend the rest of his time on bedrest reading some parenting books. A image of himself, future him with 6 kids running around him, and him doing a “Mommy and me” blog, flashed in his head and he had to stifle a chuckle. “We could do anything, luv. I just need to get better first, yeah?”

“Yeah.” she nodded and curled her body back around John’s letting her grip go slack as her tears began to slow down.

“How about for now,” John began slowly, eying Sherlock with a ‘I hope this works’ look, “you help me with the babies? Can help me feed them, and we can give Sarah her first real bath soon. That would be fun!”

“Do I have to change her nappy?” Evidence pulled back until she was on her knees besides John, her face wrinkled in a disgusted look that made John laugh out loud.

“No, Daddy and I will handle those! Now go on, go let Nana spoil you with sweets. After all, it’s your birthday!” John wiped the last of her tears away with the hem of his shirt and kissed her on the nose.

“Mmmm cake…” she smacked her lips together and took off like a speeding bullet, brushing past Sherlock on her way out of the room towards the kitchen where the smell of cake was beginning fill the air.

“That was…” Sherlock stepped into the room, somehow not noticing that Sarah had managed to spit up all over his crisp black suit jacket, “impressive. You handled that well, John.”

“Yeah well,” John scratched the back of his head and sighed, “it only gets harder from here. Six kids, Sherlock, and she’s starting to ask questions.”

“Mm.” Sherlock nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, allowing John to take the now sleeping infant from his arms, “If you handle any future questions like you did just now, I don’t see how they’ll be a problem.”

“Jesus, can you picture it?” John laughed, again thinking about him sitting in a chair outside blogging about kids, “Me? Writing one of those Mommy and Me Blogs? I mean… is that what my life is now?”

“If so, is it really that bad, John?” Sherlock turned to look at him, all angles and sharp cheekbones, fixing him with piercing green-blue eyes. “I gave up a life of crime fighting for this, and I find I don’t miss it. Much.”

“Yeah you do.” John smiled up and his husband and leaned back against the pillows. “I do too, but I know what you mean. This,” he gestured to the house and all that it meant, “I never thought I’d want it, let alone have it and love it. All my life I was told I’d be nothing more than a walking womb. I fought that, for so long. But then I met you, and I wanted kids. So badly…”

“So start up your blog again, John. Prove to the world that you can me an Omega, a parent, and yourself. Blog about us, about our cases, and about the kids.”

“The kids, really?” John cocked an eyebrow at this and propped himself up on one elbow. “Is that safe, Sherlock? I mean we’ve already had Evidence kidnaped once, and they weren’t even after us.”

“Safe? No… but remind them who their Alpha is… Perhaps no pictures, or locations…”

“Mmmm I’ll think about it. I have a few cases I could type up, stuff from before the twins were born.”

“I’ll fetch you your laptop then.” Sherlock made to stand but John stopped him by placing a hand on his thigh.

“Not now, not on Evie’s birthday. But, uh, Sherlock?”

“Mmm?”

“You might want to change… that uh, might stain if it sets.” John pointed to the glob of spit up on his left shoulder and chuckled. “Meanwhile, Sarah and I are going to take a nap before all the birthday festivities begin. Do me a favour, though, rescue Link from your father? He probably needs a fresh nappy…”   
John yawned, and smiled when Sherlock nodded and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead.

“Sleep well, John.”

***

  
Shortly after lunchtime, after nearly an hour of pestering anyone who would listen, Evidence had finally managed to get Sherlock to say yes to her request of, “Presents now, Daddy?”

So, having finally been told yes, Evidence ran into the room where John was resting and tugged on his hand.

“Papa, come! Presents!”

She took John’s hand in hers and ‘helped’ him from bed and out onto the porch on the back of the house. Once John was outside Sherlock immediately stood up, took Sarah from his arms and handed her off to Mrs. Hudson, and helped John sit in a rocking chair.

“Where’s Link?” he asked as he tolerated Sherlock for a few more seconds as his husband propped a pillow behind his back.

“Here.” Mycroft stepped into his line of vision and John saw that he was holding his littlest nephew while the triplets were using Greg as their own personal jungle gym. Oliver was currently squealing, his arms and legs locked around Greg’s left ankle, delighting in every step Greg made while Zoe and Lock were being held upside down against Greg’s chest.

“Jesus, Greg, don’t let them wear you out. They won't give up until you’ve told them off.”

“Nonsense, John!” Greg laughed as he gave his left leg a shake little shake in the air, “I’m rather enjoying myself!”

“So have you two given any thought…” John began, but Greg shook his head.

“Nah, we’ll just borrow yours from time to time. What with six kids, you’ll need someone to take them off your hands from time to time!”

  
“Cheers, mate!” John grinned back and soon his attention fell back to his eldest child, who was sitting on the poor floor next to a pile of neatly wrapped presents waiting for everyone to quit chit chatting.

“Right, Evie, which one do you want to open first?” Mrs. Holmes sat herself down in a chair closest to her, bin in hand, ready to take care of any wrapping paper. “Which one first then?”

“Ummm this one.” She picked up a small box and grinned.

“Ahh, that one,” Mycroft smiled, “Is from my employer.”

“You mean.. The bloody queen?” John gasped but Mycroft simply fixed him with a look.

“Go ahead, Evidence, open it.” he said, sitting on the ground cross legged in front of his niece, helping her tear the pearly white paper off of the package, revealing a velvet box.

“Ohhh pretty…” Evidence turned the box over, looking completely pleased by the package alone, so when her Uncle suggested she open it her eyes grew wide.

“Mycroft Holmes!” John leaned forward for a better look, and put a hand over his mouth as Mycroft took a small tiara out of the box and placed it on Evidence’s head.

“Come now, John. It was made especially for your daughter.

“Jesus…” John raised both his eyebrows and shook his head at the sight.

Forty minutes later, and a pile of toys, plastic science equipment, and clothes later, Sherlock stood and clapped his hands.

“Right, if you’d all just follow me, I have one last gift.” He helped his mate up out of the chair and wrapped one long arm around his mate’s waist for support. Together they made their way down the steps into the back garden. Just past the line of decorative bushes that separated the cultivated garden and the rest of their property in the back, were a line of three brightly painted boxes.

“Ohhh what’s that?” Mrs. Holmes asked.

“Beehives.” Sherlock grinned and Evidence clapped her hands together. “There aren’t any bees yet, wrong time of year to start a new hive. But Evidence, how would you like to help me keep bees?”

“Will they sting?” She asked, eyes wide with both excitement and fear.

“Probably. But honey bees only sting when they’re scared. And we’ll wear protective clothing.”

“That’s right you will,” John chimed in, “I'll rather not find out if my daughter is allergic to bees after she's been stung several dozen times. Plus, she's only three, Sherlock!”

“Yes, well, I've gotten her her own suit, and we’ll be fine, John! Trust me! And if she is allergic, you're a Doctor!” Sherlock patted John on the shoulder and lifted Evidence into his arms, stepping over to the boxes as he began to explain them to her.

“Jesus…” John muttered, chuckling despite himself. “Oi! You three!” He shouted at the triplets, “you get away from there. Ouchies!”

“Oooohhh ouchies.” Zoe stopped mid step and grabbed onto Lock, “ouch.”

“Great. I'll just go invest in epipens shall I?” John groaned as Oliver dove behind Greg’s legs for protection.


	5. Chapter 5

The Twins second birthday came and went, and John still had not had a heat. He and Sherlock had come to terms with it. John had even accepted the fact that it was probably due to the surgery he had when the twins were born that would prevent him from ever conceiving again. There had been cases, more than just a few, of Omega’s who’d found themselves barren and unable to have heats; and John had simply assumed this was now the case with him. After all, what good was a heat, if you couldn’t conceive for your mate?

Then one day in early April, whilst out, alone, doing a bit of early birthday shopping for the triplets fourth birthday, the once familiar cramps hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Shit…” he muttered and he fought the urge to double over from the pain. (It wouldn’t bode well to display his predicament. He might be a bonded Omega, but unchaperoned like he was, some Alphas wouldn’t care about his bonding status.) With a trembling hand he clawed at his pocket and after a few moments managed to pull his mobile out. It was another minute before he could remember how to ring Sherlock, and when his mate finally answered the phone it was with a burst of laughter, echoed by the laughter of some of their children, and a cheery, “Hello!”. However, the moment Sherlock heard John’s laboured panting the laughter died away.

“John? What’s wrong?”

John could still hear his children laughing in the background and he let out a short sob, longing to be home with his brood, longing to nest.

“John!” Sherlock’s voice snapped him back to the present and he cleared his throat.

“Yeah… er…” John panted into the phone now, it was taking all of his concentration to hide the severity of his cramps, “think I’m gonna need a ride home.”

“Why? What is it? Are you injured?” 

John looked around, ensuring he had as much privacy as he could in a crowded toy store, then hissed into the phone. “It’s my bloody heat…” he trailed off with a whimper as a particularly intense cramp ravaged his insides then pushed his way to the front of the store to check out.

“Fuck…” Sherlock hissed, ignoring the triplets chorus of “Oooohhh fuck….” then sighed into the phone. “But it’s been… fuck. This isn't’ good.”

“Yeah, bit not good, Sherlock. Listen, I’m cashing out… I’ll … er be in the car. Hurry up, yeah? I’d rather not start fingering myself in public.” This statement got John a rather amused look from the checkout clerk and a growl from his mate.

“Get in the car, and for fucks sake wait for me.” Sherlock growled into the phone. John grunted in acknowledgement and stuffed his phone back in his pocket, shoving his bank card at the cashier while trying desperately to maintain his sight.

“Do you need a security escort out to your car, sir?” She asked, smiling kindly at him as she ran his card.

John was about to shake his head “no” when another wave of cramps washed over him, so he weakly said, “Ta, that would be lovely.”

“Of course.” She pressed a small blue button on her keyboard and a burly Beta man stood up from a security desk a few feet away. John knew that the man would be no real match against an enraged Alpha, but having an escort helped calm his nerves. 

“Here, allow me, Sir.” The man said as he took the bags from John and smiled at the contents, “Birthday soon?”

“Yeah, my triplets…” they made their way slowly outside, gathering a few odd looks, but John didn’t care. “It’s that one, the yellow car.” John pointed to the sports car and smirked slightly as his escort let out a low whistle.

“Nice car, that. You’ve got yourself a good Alpha if he can afford this.”

“Mm yeah, he’s self employed, and I’m a doctor… we make ends meet.”

“I’d say so.” upon reaching the car the man ran his finger over the rear spoiler and gave John an envious look.

“She’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah… she purrs like a kitten…. Here..” John tossed the man the keys as he leaned against the door, clutching his stomach, “throw those in the boot?” he nodded towards the bags and the man nodded.

Once the bags were safely stored in the boot John nodded towards the door and sighed in relief as the Beta helped him inside and handed him the keys.

“Just wait here for your Alpha, yeah? Want me to stay?”

“Mmm ta. He’s a tall git, curly dark hair. Will probably have a murderous expression on his face and won't thank you for defending my honour.”

“Ah, no problem, Mate. Just part of the job.” The kind beta man smiled down at John, then shut the door, nodding when John hit the lock thus securing himself inside.

With each passing minute the cramps intensified to the point where John’s groans were filling the vehicle. Nearly three years without having a heat was proving to already take its toll on John’s body. True to his word, the security guard stayed by the car, giving imposing looks to anyone who strayed too close to the car. 

Nearly twenty-five minutes passed before Sherlock pulled up in their van, children in tow. Leaving the van running he stepped out and took a few steps towards his mate, snarling and baring his teeth at the beta man. John looked up from where he was sitting, fists balled under his arse in an attempt to  _ not _ finger himself in public, and let out a wanton whimper when he saw his mate. Sobbing in relief it took him a full thirty seconds to find the automatic lock button, and another ten to unlock the doors. Sherlock was opening the door and on his knees beside him in a heartbeat, reaching inside to stroke his distressed Omega.

“Oh, John, my John…” he soothed, scraping his fingernails across John’s jaw.

“My alpha…” John whimpered as he collapsed into Sherlock’s arms. “You came for me…. Need you.” he buried his nose against Sherlock’s neck, inhaling the comforting scents of his mate and went limp as he was manhandled into a standing position.

“The car…” John managed, as he was maneuvered towards the van.

“Don’t worry, John. My parents can come get it tonight, or Mycroft can send someone. Mummy and Father are coming over to help keep an eye on the children.” Sherlock helped his Omega into the passenger seat and buckled him in, pressing a quick kiss to John’s forehead.

“Mmm…” John nodded in understanding and leaned his head back against the seat, closing his eyes, cramping but comforted by being surrounded by his family. 

When they arrived home a short time later they were greeted by Mrs. Holmes running out to meet them as their van pulled up the drive. As soon as the van had stopped, she waved Sherlock down and said with as much authority as she could muster, “Sherlock dear, you get John inside and get him some water, I’ll gather the children.” 

Sherlock didn’t stop to agree, simply nodded and dashed around to the other side of the car, quickly helping his mate unbuckle. John whimpered at being so close to Sherlock again, and tried to pull at the buttons on Sherlock’s shirt. “Hold on, John… we’re nearly there.”

John took one step on his own and let out a slight cry as his legs, refusing to work on their own, gave out and he stumbled forward. He would have fallen if it hadn’t been for Sherlock catching him. The Alpha decided right then and there that it would be far more efficient to carry his mate, scooped John up into his arms and cradled him against his chest. They began to make their way into the house, but were slowed down when John began squirming in Sherlock’s arms, trying to pull at both of their clothes.

“So… hot…” John complained as he kicked off his shoes.

“I know… just a few minutes more.” they were on the stairs now, and Sherlock was taking slow but steady steps, careful to keep them both balanced least they topple over backwards. John looked around and let out a soft moan before laving his tongue against Sherlock’s neck.

“So strong… my alpha…” he cooed and stilled, making it easier for his mate to carry him.

When they finally made it into their bedroom, the first thing Sherlock did, even before letting go of his mate, was to turn on the ventilation system. He then, carefully, dropped John on their bed and stepped back, out of his reach, before the Omega could grab onto him.

“We both need water,  _ and _ something to eat. I know for a fact that you skipped breakfast, John. Undress, and go get in the bath, I’ll be up shortly with something for us.” 

Sherlock felt almost unkind as he left the room, closing the door on his mate’s soft whimpers, but he knew in his heart that he was making the right choice. He returned less than five minutes later with two large water bottles and a handful of protein bars. Bringing them into the bathroom with him he found John naked and shakily bent over the tub, fighting furiously to get his fingers to work long enough to turn the taps on. He stood there, watching his mate struggle for a moment, then his eyes dropped down to John’s arse, where he was leaking copious amounts of Omega slick. The sight seemed to snap him into motion, because he was by John’s side in an instant. He placed their provisions down on the floor beside the porcelain tub then wrapped his arms around his mate, pulling John’s bare body up tight against his clothed chest.

“You smell divine…” Sherlock purred as he rubbed his face over John’s neck, “heavenly, even.” 

John hummed his pleasure then leaned back, resting his full weight against Sherlock’s body, then uttered a low growl at the lack of skin on skin contact.

“Lose the clothes, and get some water in this bloody thing!”

“Remind me, John,” Sherlock chuckled softly, “who’s the Alpha here?” 

“You, you berk!” John hissed, spinning around to tear at Sherlock’s shirt with clumsy fingers, “So bathe me, feed me, and hurry the fuck up and fuck me.” 

“Such a bossy Omega, you are.” the Alpha complained good naturedly as he began to undress

“Yeah, yeah. Shut the fuck up and get on with it…” John retorted as he yanked on Sherlock’s shirt, sending buttons flying in all directions. The rest of Sherlock's clothes fared little better, and it wasn't long until Sherlock was sitting in the rapidly filling tub, with his mate in front of him, John's back to his chest. John let out a sigh of relief as the water climbed higher, lapping around his twisted insides, and didn't fight when Sherlock pressed a water bottle into his hands, commanding him to drink.  

He took a few slow sips, then replaced the cap and clumsy leaned an arm over the edge of the tub to place the bottle down on the floor. He leaned back against Sherlock's chest, and groaned when he heard the crinkling wrapper of the protein bar. 

“Not hungry…”

“I don't care. Ill not have you passing out on me. Eat.” Sherlock pressed the food into his hands, his chest designating with a low grumble until John touched the food to his lips. By the time the water was dangerously close to spilling out of the tub, John had managed to eat the full bar, and consume another few sips of water, which Sherlock praised him for by showering the back of his neck with kisses. 

As they both sat in the warm water, Sherlock let out a contented sigh and wrapped his arms around his mate, holding him tight. 

“I can't wait to share your heat with you, John.”

“Yeah?” John craned his neck to the side and managed to catch a glimpse of Sherlock’s blissful expression before the Alpha schooled his face.

“Mm. I've always loved it. Love being so close to you, being physically joined.”

“Oh look at you, being all romantic.” John grinned then turned back around, leaning heavily against Sherlock. The relaxed in the warm bath water until John’s cramps subsided and gave way into heavy breathing and over stimulation as his skin became incredibly sensitive. John’s body instinctively sought out Sherlock’s,  but when John turned around and attempted to straddle Sherlock’s hips in the water, Sherlock gently pushed his Omega away and stood up. He offered a hand to John, helped pull him to his own two feet, then bent and pulled the plug, letting the water drain out. 

“Come on, John. Let’s get ourselves dried off, don’t want to get the bed wet,” he reached for two towels, handed one to John then began drying himself off. 

“Yeah, ‘cause the bed getting a bit of water on it is the worst that’s going to happen to it,” John chuckled out, then gasped and shuddered as he ran the coarse fabric of the towel across his legs. He growled and pulled the towel away in frustration, staring at the towel as if it had just personally offended him, which, in a way it had.

Sherlock watched, just for a brief moment, then took pity on his disgruntled mate. He reached down and picked up his shirt, ruined anyways, and ran the soft fabric over John’s stomach, watching to see how his mate reacted. John let out a deep sigh of relief as the soft material caressed his skin, so with a satisfied smirk Sherlock attempted to dry of his now squirming mate. 

“So responsive already….” Sherlock praised, letting his alpha instincts take over. He kissed his way over John’s once toned belly, kissing each stretch mark with reverence. John let out a sad whimper, and Sherlock didn’t have to be the World’s only Consulting Detective to know what his mate was feeling. He kissed John’s stomach again and gently shushed him.

“John, it doesn’t mean I love you any less,” he reached up and cupped John’s face in his hand and smiled softly, “I love the children we have, and I rather think six is enough.” 

“You think?” John half laughed, half sobbed out.

“Mmm I do. So stop feeling like a failure.”

“Yeah,” John sniffed and squared his shoulders. “Yeah, but seven more and we could have had a full ruby team.” 

Sherlock laughed out loud, his smile reaching the corner of his eyes, and stood up, looking down at his mate with a playful smirk, “Well, our six children are bound to make at  _ least _ seven friends.”

“Oh, aren’t you clever.” John grinned up at Sherlock and blinked away a tear. They then broke into a fit of giggles. John’s giggling turned into a high pitched squeal as Sherlock let out a growl and grabbed him around the waist and hauled him over his shoulder.

“Sher!!!” John squeaked, then groaned as Sherlock turned his head and nipped at his side.

“You’re mine, John. All mine, and oh I’m going to fuck you so hard. I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Oh god, yes,”

Sherlock carried John out of the bathroom and into their bedroom then tossed him down on the center of the bed. He stood back for a moment, admiring the sight of his naked and squirming Omega… then he pounced…

 

***

  
  
They submerged from a sea of pheromones and bodily fluids three days later. John woke first and opened his eyes to survey the damage. However the second he was met with even the faintest light coming from their alarm clock, the spine splitting pain that coursed through his head made him groan and squeeze his eyes back shut. He tried to think, tried to remember when the last time he had eaten or had anything to drink was. He remembered Sherlock making him drink in the tub, but that couldn’t have been the last time, could it? Braving the pain once more he opened one eye and looked around the floor. There were no empty water bottles, no food wrappers.. Nothing. 

“Sherl…” his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his voice was hoarse, so he tried again with marginally better luck. “She’lok wake up…” 

“Mmm,” his mate replied pulling a pillow over his head and groaning, probably in the same amount of pain.

“We need fluids… didn’t eat or drink once…” 

“What day is it?” Sherlock grumbled out, muffled by the pillow.

“Dunno…” 

“Brilliant.” Sherlock surfaced, and rolled over to grab his phone from where it sat on the nightstand, just to find it long since run out of battery. “Two days at least… my phone will last for 36 hours on standby.” 

“Brilliant…” John echoed Sherlock’s previous statement and forced himself to sit, pushing down the wave of nausea the sudden movement caused. Ignoring Sherlock’s protests he swung his legs out of bed, and stumbled into their bathroom and headed straight towards the sink. He threw the taps wide open and cupped his hands under the stream, scooping water up and bringing it to his lips. This proved to be too slow, so after three attempts he growled and bent low, sucking his head into the sink and pressing his lips against the flow of water, sucking in as much as he could. 

Once his throat no longer felt like sandpaper he surfaced and sucked in a sweet lungful of air. After a few gasping breaths he placed a hand on either side of the basin and braced himself. Looking up, he grimaced as he took in his appearance. 

“Jesus…” he brought a hand up and ran his fingers over his sunken in cheeks, touched the bags under his eyes and winced at the vast amount of dried semen in his hair. With a growing sense of dread he stepped back and surveyed his whole body. Aside from, nearly, literally being covered in dried fluids, he had scratches, from both his and Sherlock’s nails, bite marks, bruises and the side of his neck was red and inflamed from where Sherlock had repeatedly bitten his scent glands. Sucking in another breath he tore his eyes from the mirror and stumbled over to the shower and clumsily made his way inside. It took him a moment, but when he finally got the water running he turned it up as hot as his sensitive skin could manage, no hotter than lukewarm really, and leaned against the shower wall. 

He wasn’t sure exactly how long he’d been standing there, afraid to move lest he fall flat on his face without the support of the wall, when Sherlock finally staggered into the loo. Judging by the sounds of the sink faucet running, he’d gone for a drink as well. After a moment he heard Sherlock cry out, “It’s brown, John!!!” 

It wasn’t until he heard the toilet flush that John understood. He opened his mouth and weakly called out, “mmm Dehydrated, I can’t even pee. What… three, four days?”

“Three and a half.” Sherlock pushed the shower curtain aside and invited himself in, leaning against the wall just beside John.

“We need food,” was all he said, letting his curly haired head lean against the cool tiled wall.

“Mmm.” John half nodded, but stopped mid nod when his head began to throb.

“A steak.”

“Salmon.” John licked his lips and moaned at the thought of food, hell even a bowl of cereal sounded like a four course dinner to him.

“Both.”

“Yeah, both.” 

It took them another forty-five minutes before they’d managed to dress and stumble their wait downstairs. They found the house blissfully empty, and upon reaching the kitchen they found a note sitting on the counter written in Sherlock’s mother’s elegant scrawl.

“Boys, if you’re up and about today, we’ve gone to the beach. There’s leftover in the fridge. Luv you.”

“Bless her!” John muttered and began pulling out containers full of food. As he began heating them up, Sherlock reached for their medical kit above the fridge and pulled out two paracetamols for each of them, then poured two tall glasses of Orange Juice.

“Ta.” John downed the two tablets, and half the juice, in one go then pulled the first container out of the micro.

Neither of them bothered with plates, simply eating the leftover chicken and rice straight out of the container while another container full of lasagna was heating up. Neither spoke, they were far too busy shoveling food into their bodies to be bothered with chatter. It wasn’t until they’d all but licked the containers clean did John sit back and groan.

“So that was…” he searched for words, but shrugged instead when none came to him, “I don’t even remember it. Do you?”

“No…” Sherlock shook his head and sighed. “I remember the bath, and then remember throwing you on the bed… then I was inside you. And it’s all just a bit…”

“Fuzzy. Like, I know we fucked, and I remember a bit of it, waking up to you sinking inside me… but…”

“That’s it.” Sherlock pulled a face that said he was annoyed and drained is third glass of juice.

“Yeah.” 

“Bit annoying, that.”

“Mmmm. But hey, I’m not pregnant.” John chuckled and reached out for the house phone. “Might as well let them know…”

“Not yet…” Sherlock took the phone and placed it back on the receiver. “I think we both need a nap. God knows I want this headache gone before we have children crawling all over us.” 

“We’ve just woken up!”

“From a sex induced coma, yes. Not a restful nap. Now come on, Doctor, to bed with you.” 

“We’ll call them the moment we wake up.”

“The very moment. Well, right after I check and see if we have any cases.”

“Sherlock!” John groaned, letting his mate guide him back towards their room.

“Fine… right before.”  
  
“Shit…” they entered the bedroom and John took one good look at their bed then shook his head. “I’m not sleeping in that mess. Get some clean sheets and help me change the bedding…”


	6. Note from me:

IM SO SORRY. I have literally been bed ridden for a MONTH! Tomorrow is my first day back to work in literally 3 weeks. I threw my back out so badly I needed help up off the toilet. I discovered that I have a bulged disc in my lower spine along with bone degeneration (at age 29, that'll be great when I'm old!)

Tomorrow is going to be tough for me, but I actually usually get most of my writing done AT work (bring in paper and write between customers to keep me from getting bored) so I hope that now that I'm back to work I'll be able to start writing again. I still can't sit at my computer for more than fifteen minutes or so, as I have a VERY VERY awful desk chair... but.... I promise I haven't forgotten about you. Ive just been unable to sit up or really do anything more than live off of vicodin and sleep. It has been... terrible. But my boyfriend has been a fucking saint. He's taken care of me, and helped me with my bills while I'm out of work. Seriously, that guy is just..... Idk, I can't say enough about him. 

Cross your fingers, you might get a new chapter by Friday if all goes well! Love you all!!!

-Tindo


End file.
